Escaping Death

Chapter 57

Ace

They may have told us to go enjoy the party, but I know when I'm being dismissed. I motion for the guys to back off, keeping my face neutral as I do. When really I'm reluctant to let her out of my sight, especially in a place this size with thousands of people in attendance. I can only just make her scent out above the rest.

Despite what her fathers may think about the security of their borders, our guys have been able to grease enough palms over the years to get in when we've needed to. Not to mention Hunter revealing their secret entrance. Who knows how many others exist here? Who knows how capable Nightshade is of breaching these borders? He easily broke into our home undetected, something I'm still punishing the crew for.

Someone fucked up.

Someone is lying to me.

"We're going to need to spread out if we're going to keep eyes on her in here, and we're already a man short," Dean says with a whistle, marveling at the sheer magnitude of the hall.

"No we're not. H is lurking around here somewhere."

The guys all look at me with different expressions. Eli is indifferent, Dean is concerned, and Tate looks surprisingly impressed.

"That's playing with fire, even for you." That's as close to challenging me as Dean gets, but I won't hold it against him because he's right more often than not. Hunter's refusal to stay in the rooms had my wolf pressing him for submission. However, in the end he would have come down with or without my approval so I agreed under strict conditions.

"He has his instructions. He's not to be recognized. If he's made by one of us, or anyone for that matter, his ass is back home immediately."

A malicious smile bleeds across Tate's mouth and the crazed glint in his eye gives away his game. He's now made it his personal challenge to find Hunter.

"Behave," is the only warning I can throw at him before he disappears. "That goes for both of you as well," I wag a finger between Eli and Dean, then make my way to the bar positioning myself so I can watch the door for Solana.

Her sister is standing by the entrance socializing with friends and well-wishers. You'd think having the same natural hair and eye color as Sol would make them look more similar, but for sisters they couldn't look more different.

Calla's features are sharper than Sol's, more angular. Her smile is as much a lie as the fake eyelashes she has on, and her posture tries to sell a confidence that I'm not buying. She plays the materialistic, doe-eyed beauty well. But if she's even a quarter of her mother — or sister — then I know there must be more to her than meets the eye. It's disappointing that she tries to hide beneath this superficial veneer.

My drink has just arrived when she appears in the entryway of the Great Hall looking every ounce a queen, easily outshining her older sister. Judging from the scowl Calla is scrambling to cover I'd bet that she knows it, too.

The girls' conversation must immediately sour because Solana is doing more talking to Calla's back than her face. At the bar, Calla alternates between arguing and drinking, rapidly approaching the tolerance threshold for most dragonesses.

Solana's eyes scan the bar, likely in search of her own drink. An anxious heat climbs up the back of my neck like a rash drawing her attention to me. Ever since our pack meeting last week the possibility of her pregnancy has occupied prime real estate in my thoughts.

Any drinking in her condition has inherent risks but this is no ordinary human liquor. The drinks here are choice selections from the finest supernatural distilleries the world over. I'd rather suffer Solana's wrath than let anything harm her pregnancy — however small the perceived risk may be. If she is pregnant then the next item on my nix list is that flavored water crap she calls tea.